Every now and then, someone will drop a  pizza pan or a pie tin or a pan lid on the floor of the kitchen here in The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse and, of course, it sets up a reverberating metallic clatter that elicits an alarm clock response – you pounce on it to stop the vibrating echo. Sort of like soldiers throwing themselves on grenades for their buddies. No, that’s wrong. You throw yourself on the alarm clock or dropped pan because the continuing noise is driving you instantly insane. it is a totally selfish act and if others benefit, well, that’s okay.

This morning the melted and refrozen snow on the driveway was molded into continues waves of ice – rogue waves popping up here and there – and when i got out to scrape the windshield I slipped and went down on hands and knees that slid outward until I was sprawled out flat on gray wavy humps of cold ice in front of car. Cars look really big, by the way, when you are lying on the pavement in front of them.

It didn’t really hurt that much, but it vibrated me. Every bone and joint took a jolt and passed it on until it reached my head where vibration rhythmically bounced around like a cymbal that has been walloped. Cameron was soon looming over me, asking if I had broken anything. No, no. Nothing broken, and, thank heavens, the vibration in my body did not produce sound waves that caused him to throw himself on me.

The temperature is supposed to get above freezing and I am buying ice melter and maybe together, those conditions will make the driveway safe for the Weeble Who Can Fall Down.